In The Beginning
by Writing4MySoul
Summary: Part one of my Natasha Antonia Stark universe. This is a re-imagining of the events of the Iron Man movies if Tony Stark was Toni Stark.


My first memory is Mom telling me that she loved me. Since I was only three, my immediate response was to tell her I loved her too. Then Jarvis walked in, and I instantly ran to him, hugging his leg and telling him I loved him. Jarvis laughed and picked me up, hugging me. "I love you too, Natasha," he tells me. The first two times I've said those words are also my last, for a very long time.

I never say it to Dad. Somehow, I know better not to. Years later, I still don't know how to feel about that.

 **~*Before*~**

"You will never be Captain America, Toni! No one could replace him, _especially_ you."

I was only nine when I realized how powerful hate was. That I hated Captain America, because he turned Dad into _this_. Turned him into this drunk monster. Set unrealistic expectations of America that were disappointing in the least. I wanted to scream at the hollow shell that had consumed Dad, but Aunt Peggy walked in right at that moment and dragged me out. "That man," she huffed. "Where is your mother?" she asked me a moment later.

"She's napping. She got a headache earlier and I suggested she lie down," I stated matter-of-factly.

Aunt Peggy smiled at me, but it looked kinda sad. _Probably about Captain America_ , I think bitterly. "C'mon, kiddo, I need to show you something," she said, picking me up and carrying me to Dad's lab (even though I could walk without running into anything). She rummages through a few of Dad's junk drawers (Mom's words) before letting out a small "aha!", taking out a small picture. She hands it to me to look at, and I'm surprised to see that its Captain America, but sickly. "His name was Steve Rogers," Aunt Peggy explains. "He was the bravest man I ever knew. He became Captain America because he wanted to show people hope in a time of darkness. Because he hated bullies. Steve loved art; I'd always hoped he would become an artist after the war." Aunt Peggy looked sad again, so I tried to give her back the picture so she wouldn't be sad anymore, but she refused and pushed it back towards me. "No, love, you keep it. To remind you what real heroism looks like." Aunt Peggy picks me back up, and I hold into the picture tightly as we head to my bedroom. Aunt Peggy places me on my bed, kissing my forehead. "Go to bed, love. I'll still be here in the morning if you want to learn more about Steve." She leaves, but I stay up hours later memorizing the picture of Cap— _Steve_. When I finally do go to sleep, I'm thinking about how much metal it would take to make a good replica of the shield.

 **~*Before*~**

"Jarvis, am I a freak?"

Jarvis nearly drops the vase he was cleaning when I asked my question. "Why would you think that, Natasha?"

I roll my eyes. He and Mom always insisted on calling me Natasha; everyone else had been calling me Toni for years. They were the only ones allowed to. "I'm smarter than most, I'm an asshole to a lot of people, and the only people who can tolerate me are you and Mom. Doesn't that make me a freak?"

Jarvis shook his head as he gently set down the vase (my favorite one, the red and gold pattern striking against each other) and gestured for me to sit down. "Just because you're different doesn't make you a freak," he tells me as he sits next to me on the loveseat.

I look at Jarvis like he'd lost his mind. "That's exactly why I'm a freak," I explained logically.

That got a smile from Jarvis. "You want to know what a famous man once said?" I cock my head curiously. "I'm not going to change the way I look or the way I feel to conform to anything. I've always been a freak. So I've been a freak all my life and I have to live with that, you know. I'm one of those people. John Lennon said this. Now, did someone tell you you were atypical?"

I nod. "Its just... what's the point?"

"Ah. So that's what this is about." Jarvis wraps his arm around me, pulling me into a comforting embrace. "The point of life, is that we make our own point. What your father doesn't understand that you need to is that some things can never be answered. Science can't solve everything that life has to throw at us. Once you accept that, you will be able to overcome any boundary." He reaches over to the vase and hands it to me before getting up. "Happy birthday, Natasha," Jarvis says before leaving me alone.

I lift the vase to study it more closely. That's when I hear a rattle inside. I put my hand inside, and pull out a box. When I open it, I gasp at the beautiful necklace inside. I immediately put it on, touched by Jarvis' kindness. But that was before I read the note inside:

 _Natasha,_

 _Happy 15th birthday. I wish everyone could see the kind, gentle woman you've become. And I'm sorry your parents couldn't be here to celebrate. Your father doesn't know what he's missing._

 _All my love,_

 _E. Jarvis_

 **~*Before*~**

"..What?"

"I'm sorry, Ms. Stark. She'll have a year to live, at the most. There's not much we can do."

The doctor walks away, leaving me and Jarvis outside Mom's room. Out of everything, Mom dying of a brain tumor? Not how I was hoping this day would go, and yet, I should've seen it coming. Shit was always going wrong in my life, so why should it stop now? There really wasn't a point anymore. "Jarvis, can I go out tonight? Cindy's hosting a party," I ask.

Jarvis nodded his consent as he entered Mom's hospital room. "Be home by eleven," and then he's gone. I don't look back as I exited the hospital. I had no intention of doing what I said I was going to do. I drove around until I had found a little hole-in-the-wall bar I could sneak into, got drunk, and had sex for the first time. Everyone grieves differently, right?

 **~*Before*~**

It was only a few months later into my seventeenth year that I buried both my parents. I inherited an empire I didn't want. I drank when I could, if only just to forget. Thank God for Obie, otherwise I never would've gone to MIT.

 **~*Before*~**

Y'know, when I first met James Rhodes. I honestly expected him to be like every other boy I'd ever met. But he wasn't. He surprisingly put up with me by helping me get on my feet after every binge. Even let me call him Rhodey. It was... nice, to have a friend who wanted me for more than my money, brain or body.

"C'mon, Toni, rise and shine."

On the other hand, he insisted I sleep a "normal" amount. But he keeped seeming to forget I stay awake for five days then sleep for two. I groaned when he opened the blinds on the window, making light flood the room. "Rhodey, shut the fucking lights off."

"When was the last time you ate something?"

"..."

"Uh huh. That's what I thought. Get up, get dressed then we're going out to lunch. And don't argue with me." I was about to protest when he gave me his patented look: _Toni, you get up right now or I'm dragging you out as you are._ And since I was half-naked (and wasn't in the mood to get arrested), I figured I should listen to the man (once in a blue moon).

When I was finally dressed ("don't forget to brush your teeth, Toni"), Rhodey took me to Asgard Pub (later the irony wouldn't be lost to me). I didn't realize how hungry I was until my Kinsale burger was set in front of me and I nearly took off our waiter's hand so I could get to it. I was tempted to apologize, but my stomach won over my conscience. Rhodey and I ate in silence until we'd both eaten our meals in record time, and still hungry for more. "Looks like I'm not the only one who's not been eating," I joked when our Kinsale mud pies came out.

Rhodey rolled his eyes. "Haha, yeah, no. Unlike you, who waits to the point of starvation to _remember_ to eat, I'm hungry because I'm a _normal_ teenage boy."

I snorted. "Please, you're not normal 'cause you hang out with _me_."

That got me a look. "Contrary to popular belief," he says after another bite, "you _are_ normal. Sure, you're intelligent, rich and attractive, but you behave just like the rest of us. Speaking of, how are you doing?"

I shrugged. "I honestly don't know anymore. I don't know how to feel about anything anymore."

"How long has it been since the accident?"

"... A year."

"See," Rhodey said as he reached over the table to poke me in the shoulder, "normal stages of grief."

"I was never in denial."

"Then what do you call your drinking?"

"Depression." Silence. "Look, Rhodey, I know what you're trying to do, but it's not going to work. I dug myself in, and 'm gonna be forced to find my way out again. There's nothing you can do to help."

"Bullshit. That's what friends are for, Tones. That's what we are, aren't we?"

"Damn straight we are."

"Then let me help you."

I sighed. "I don't think you understand, James." Rhodey blinked at me in shock. That was the first time I'd ever used his first name. "I've been helped all my life by Mom and Jarvis. Howard never did shit to help me; just pushed and pushed until all I wanted to do was break him. But I didn't. He broke himself just fine, and broke his only kid in the process. This isn't just about Mom. Aunt Peggy's in the hospital, and I can't fucking visit her because I'm stuck at fucking school until Friday, and it pisses me the fuck off because what if something fucking happens to her before then and I don't get a fucking chance to say goodbye? I missed my chance to say goodbye to Mom and tell her I love her. I am not missing another chance to say goodbye to someone I care about, okay? I am never letting that happen again." By then, tears were streaming down my face, and not in the fake Hollywood way. I mean snot and tears, the real way any person cries. Rhodey handed me a napkin, letting me compose myself. He sighed.

"So, is this Aunt Peggy of yours far away?" he asks teasingly.

I looked at Rhodey, at my best friend, before I started laughing, and I felt a piece of me come back.

 **~*Before*~**

Pain. Pain was encompassing and sharp and raw and _why didn't he tell me sooner?_

A bony, frail hand reached out to touch the pendent that sat on my collarbone. "Forgive me, Natasha," Jarvis whispered, "but I didn't want you to grieve for my passing." Tears ran down my face and landed on the bedding. "Please don't cry, Natasha. I'm never going to be away from you, not really. I'll still be here," his hand moved over my heart, "always."

I laugh mirthlessly. "Really? You're dying, and you pick the most cliché line of them all?" I sniffled before I placed my hand over his. "Always," I replied, giving his hand a soft squeeze.

 **~*Before*~**

 _ **Edwin A. Jarvis**_

 _ **1920 - 2002**_

 **~*Before*~**

"Toni, c'mon, you need to get out—"

" _No_ , not yet. I'm almost done. When I'm done, I'll go outside. Promise."

"Uh-huh. Why don't I believe you."

"Rhodey, _please_ , I need to do this."

"You still haven't told me what _this_ is—"

 _Systems online_ , a computerized voice interrupted Rhodey mid-rant. Then, "Hello, Ms. Stark. Colonel Rhodes."

Rhodey's eyes bugged out at the sound of the familiar voice. I, on the other hand, started to cry at the relief that surged through me. "It worked," I whispered. Louder, "Rhodey, this is JARVIS. Just A Rather Versatile Intelligence System."

Rhodey balked at me for a second. Then he started chuckling. "Of course you named him JARVIS."

I shrugged. "People grieve differently, right?"

Rhodey smiled at me. "Yeah, Tones, they do."

 **~*Before*~**

"Ma'am, your three o'clock is here."

"Thanks, J. Let her in." A few seconds later a redhead came though the door. She looked confident, but not cocky. Good. There was only enough bullshit here for me. She sat across from me, back straight, ankles crossed. I snorted, and she seemed startled by this. "You can relax. I'm not a _complete_ bitch." She still sat all prim and proper. I sighed. "Seriously, you need to calm down. You're making me want to act like a lady."

"Well aren't you?" She bit her bottom lip after she sassed me. I just laughed. This one had attitude. This was going to be fun.

"So, Ms. Potts... how do you feel about nicknames?"

 **~*Before*~**

Five years later, my life as Toni Stark the CEO of Stark Industries was over. My life as Iron Man had begun.


End file.
